


Carsick

by An_Odd_Idea



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Motion Sickness, Sick Peter Parker, Tony Stark Tries His Best, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/An_Odd_Idea/pseuds/An_Odd_Idea
Summary: Peter thought trying to do homework in the car on the way to a conference with Tony was a good idea.  It wasn’t.Comfortember prompt 28: Car ride
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 102
Collections: Comfortember 2020





	Carsick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ravenclawlair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenclawlair/gifts).



> For my lovely and prone-to-carsickness friend who likes this trope.

Perhaps trying to do homework in the car had been a bad idea after all. Tony had said he should just enjoy the drive, but no, of course Peter had wanted to do something else, and he was apparently paying for it now.

He had always managed homework in the car okay before, but that was on the way from school to the tower, in the city. _Not_ on a very winding, very up and down road through the Allegheny mountains (at least he thought they were the Alleghenies) on the way to a robotics conference in Pittsburgh with Tony.

He turned to his old friend, ginger gum (he’d been prone to stomach troubles before the spider bite, and it still seemed to flare up when he was away from home, so the anti-nausea gum was a must) and dug it out of his backpack while keeping his eyes firmly fixed out the windshield. Well, it was hard to really fix his eyes on anything while in a moving car, but looking out the windshield was marginally better than anywhere else.

“Whatcha got there?” Tony asked, blissfully aware of Peter’s discomfort.

Peter hoped it would stay that way. “Gum,” he replied, still staring at the road ahead of them. He couldn’t see very far with the start of another turn coming up.

“Are you sharing?”

“It’s ginger flavored.”

“Huh.” Tony was probably giving him a funny look, but Peter didn’t take his eyes off the road. “May I try?”

Peter always hated to part with a piece of ginger gum, even to chew it himself, because he might need it more later, but he didn’t see a way to refuse that wouldn’t be rude. He fished another piece out of the inconveniently-shaped packaging and passed it to Tony.

He hadn’t actually started to chew his own piece of gum yet, instead just holding it in his mouth to try to get the benefit of the ginger without a sudden onslaught of flavor that might push his nausea over the edge.

“Whoo that’s strong!” Tony exclaimed, having clearly just bitten into it like any normal person would. “You like this stuff?”

“Yeah.” Talking was a little much when he felt this sick.

Tony gave him an odd look. Peter swallowed a mouthful of vaguely gingery spit and tried not to look too miserable while staring out the window.

“You alright, kiddo?”

“Yeah.”

There was no way Tony believed him, but as long as he could avoid throwing up, that was all Peter wanted at the moment.

“I could do with a stop, what about you?”

Peter nodded once. It would be nice to be on solid ground for a while. By the time they pulled into the parking lot of a tiny gas station, Peter had decided getting up and walking around, or anything that required moving at all, might not be the best idea.

“Can I just stay here?” he asked, hoping Tony wouldn’t prod him as to why.

“You don’t want to at least stretch your legs?”

“I’m…I’m good.” Peter gave Tony a smile that hopefully didn’t look too much like he was dying. “You go ahead.”

Tony gave him another look that made Peter think he saw right through him, but all he said was, “You’d better not be asking to stop again twenty minutes from now. Want anything?”

“No thanks.”

As soon as Tony was gone, Peter turned the AC up and leaned his head against the window, closing his eyes. The cold air helped, and if he could just sleep for a minute, that might work as some kind of reset on his carsickness. He jumped when Tony rapped lightly on the window, and hurried to unlock the doors.

“I got you a water anyway; they say it’s easy to get dehydrated on long car rides, especially if you insist on never stopping for the bathroom.” Tony gave him a pointed look.

Peter took the bottle without opening it. The sleep-reset hadn’t worked (not really surprising, but it had been worth a try) and he felt queasy again before they’d even left the parking lot.

As if Tony’s warning had been a prophecy of some sort, although not in the way he meant it, it was almost exactly twenty minutes later when Peter realized trying to fight down his nausea might be a vain endeavor. He dug through his backpack with shaking hands, found his notebook, and ripped off a small piece of paper to spit his gum into. That didn’t help. His face felt hot and clammy at the same time, and in a second, he knew with dreadful certainty that resistance was, indeed, a lost cause.

“Hey, Mr. Stark?” He swallowed hard. “Can we stop somewhere, soon?”

“What did I say to you when we stopped not half an hour ago?”

“No, I’m uh-“ Peter coughed badly. “I’m really carsick.”

“Oh.”

Peter closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths, but he just coughed again, and he was _definitely_ about to throw up.

“Okay, okay.” Tony’s voice held an edge of panic even though Peter was the one who should really be panicking because he was about to be sick in this car in front of Tony Stark. “Pulling over now.”

Peter leaned back against the headrest and tried to ignore how sweaty and overall awful he felt. He didn’t move when Tony brought the car to a stop at the side of the road, now that he once again felt just the barest, tiniest bit better. If he sat still enough, maybe it would stay that way.

“If you’re going to puke, please do it outside.”

Poor Tony sounded nervous; he obviously didn’t realize Peter was trying his very, very hardest not to puke at all. To make him stop worrying, Peter climbed shakily out and leaned against the side of the car. People said fresh air helped when you were nauseous, and it did, a little. Peter never wanted to get in a car again.

Unfortunately, they were a bit stuck at the moment; Peter doubted he could convince Tony to leave him on the side of the road. Speaking of Tony, he probably wanted to get going again. Peter took a deep breath and eased himself away from the support of the car, and apparently that was all it took before enough was enough and he bent over to throw up in the weeds. He let himself fall back against the car when he was done, shaking much worse now and still dreading the thought of ever moving again.

He did make himself get back in the car eventually, sliding into his seat without a word. Tony handed him his bottle of water from where he’d left it in the cup holder.

Peter’s stomach still felt definitely unsettled, and he took the smallest sip possible just to make Tony happy and rinse the awful taste out of his mouth. He felt like sinking into the seat and never moving again.

“We’ve still got about an hour to go,” said Tony after what had probably been a long time. “Will you be okay?”

“I’m fine.” Peter instantly felt sick again, and they weren’t even moving. “No.”

“Here.” Tony pushed a plastic bag with the logo from the gas station into his hands. “I’ll see if I can take those curves a little slower, yeah?”

“No it’s—it’s not you,” said Peter. “I was trying to do homework, remember?”

“Ah yes. Pretty stomach-turning, isn’t it?”

Peter acknowledged that with a snort.

“I’m sorry.” Tony patted his shoulder. “Put your seatbelt on. We’ll be there soon.”

  
All things considered, Peter held out pretty well. He sipped his water at Tony’s urging, and stared straight out the windshield like before.

Alas, it was not to last, and he started to sweat again. He breathed deeply, not wanting a repeat of his earlier performance. Tony seemed to sense, glancing over at him. 

“Do we need to stop again?”

“No, I’m good.” Peter hoped he was good, anyway. As long as he held very still, he would probably be fine.

He was not fine. Unfortunately, he realized this while they were stuck in a slow-moving patch of traffic—there was construction or something ahead—with no good place to pull off. He clenched the plastic bag tightly in his hand.

“Alright?” Tony asked, with a small glance in his direction,

“Uh-huh.”

Tony reached over and rubbed his shoulder, and Peter wanted to shrink away, but moving at all was a terrible idea.

“Please, uh, please don’t. Makes it worse when I’m trying not to throw up.”

“Sorry.” Tony withdrew his hand. “You can if you need to.”

“I don’t _want_ to.” Peter would rather die.

Peter’s body didn’t care what he wanted, however, and he hurried to open the bag and just hope there wasn’t a hole in it. There wasn’t much to throw up, thankfully, but he wrinkled his nose, because he just wanted to stop or at least be quiet, and he hoped Tony wasn’t making a face, and he really just wanted to die. Tony awkwardly patted his back between his shoulder blades.

“Sorry,” Peter croaked, once he finally felt safe emerging from the bag again. He didn’t want to look at Tony, just in case he still looked grossed out. Not that Peter could blame him, but he still didn’t want to think about it.

“It’s fine, kid.” Tony sounded almost as uncomfortable as he felt, like he had no idea what to do. “Try more water. That should help.”

“‘Kay.” Peter looked helplessly at the now-disgusting bag.

“Just hold on to that, we’ll stop as soon as we can.”

Peter nodded and curled up a little in his seat.

They pulled off at the next exit, stopping at a gas station even tinier than the first. Peter thankfully felt more tired than sick by then, and he thought he might fall asleep soon if his body was kind to him.

“Here, give me that.” Tony reached for the bag, and he tightened his grip on it.

“That’s gross.”

“Believe me kid, I’ve seen grosser.”

He relinquished his hold on the bag, cringing when Tony took it from him and tied a knot in the top like it wasn’t the nastiest thing he’d probably ever seen, no matter what he said.

“You’re not going to keel over on me if I run in, are you?”

Peter shook his head.

“Back in a minute, then.”

Tony left the car, and Peter curled up a little more in his seat. He was almost asleep when his mentor returned with a Sprite, a new bag “just in case” as well as “these rice crackers I found, they’re Pennsylvanian, but they might help settle your stomach.”

Peter doubted Pennsylvanian gas station crackers were a good idea at the moment, and Tony didn’t push him to try them. He only bugged him into drinking a tiny amount of Sprite, and then Peter turned sideways to lean against the back of his seat, feeling heavy and tired all over. Luckily, he slept.

He woke up to the car slowing down as they pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and squinted sleepily out the window.

“Welcome to Pittsburgh, kid,” said Tony, and then in a much softer tone that Peter could only describe as gentle, “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” Peter stretched. “Just kinda gross.”

“We’ll get checked in and then you can lie down if you want.”

“That sounds good.”

Tony kept a hand on his shoulder all the way to the room like he was afraid he might pass out, and Peter would have assured him that carsickness wasn’t a serious illness, but the steady contact was actually pretty nice, so he didn’t. As soon as they got to the hotel room, Peter took off his shoes and practically melted onto the bed, curling up loosely at the foot. He still felt a little sick, but not enough to really worry. Mainly he just felt worn out, as well as vaguely gross. The white hotel bedspread felt smooth and cool from the blasting hotel air conditioning, and he let his eyes close again. 

The bed dipped a little to one side, and Peter hummed quietly to acknowledge Tony’s presence without opening his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Tony sounded like he couldn’t quite decide whether to be concerned or slightly amused.

“Yeah. Just…” Peter flopped a hand around halfheartedly. “Bleh.”

Tony chuckled sympathetically. “I’ll leave you alone, then?”

“Sure. I’m not sick, you know. Just kinda weird still.”

“Okay.” Tony tucked his hair behind his ear with a tenderness that Peter hadn’t known he was capable of. “Feel better, kiddo.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll let May know we made it,” said Tony. “And on the way back? If I see a book, I’m taking it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated, or come visit me on tumblr @an-odd-idea
> 
> Please do not print or reproduce this work outside this site


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